


Acting As If

by mia_winchester



Category: One Direction (Band), niall horan - Fandom
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Car Sex, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Consent, Dirty Talk, Explicit Consent, F/M, Forest Sex, Married Couple, Married Sex, Oral Sex, Rape Fantasy, Rape Roleplay, Roleplay, Sexual Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:32:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2237565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mia_winchester/pseuds/mia_winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a night out in town, the long way home's making (Y/N) a little impatient. Needy as she is, she remembers a fantasy of hers she has talked about with her husband Niall before. Struggling with the idea first, he finally agrees. And a few minutes later, he proves her that there's another side to him than the caring, loving he is most of the time. A side that knows exactly how to adapt to a risky roleplay like the one they're acting out in the middle of a dark forest. </p><p>WARNING: Even though this is an EXPLICITELY CONSENT ROLEPLAY ( with a safeword and constant mentions of how it's all just a game ), this might be triggering to some of you. This is in NO way promoting sexual violence. It is a consent ROLE PLAY between a married couple, described in a work of fiction. If you have any questions concerning rape fantasies, maybe your own, please contact me. </p><p>If you're still with me, enjoy! By far my favourite oneshot out of all the ones I've ever written. Not on my tumblr for obvious reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acting As If

Ever since you moved to the countryside, each car ride to the city centre and back felt like a little road trip. Just trees and green meadows along the border of the narrow, lonely way, a landscape of shadows in black and blue at night. Like the nature surrounding you it's in yours to keep your hand on the back of his on the gearstick when he drives. You want to feel him whenever you can, the slightest bit of skin contact only electrifies your body and soul and knowing that he longs for your touch and your sole presence as much as you long for him leaves you a deeply grateful, helplessly devoted mess in love whenever you think about it. You love him. So much. And he loves you. So much. You were silly believing that the need would decrease, that the rings around your fingers would hem and confine your rapture, passion and lust. No. It all just grew. Got stronger. Took you over completely, occupying your insides, brain, heart, stomach, like a benign tumour that swell with every little smile he gave you, with every word he said, with every time he thanked you for being there for him, told you he loved you and proved it in his actions, or simply the way he looked at you.

He was a little tired, a little tipsy, too. You both were. Zayn's vernissage in London has been a thorough success. Neither you nor Niall have been exposed to so many photographers, reporters and other famous people in a long time. His best friend's art is simply fantastic. Capturing, by all means interesting, absolutely unique.

Each of the boys had chosen their own path after the band split. Zayn focuses on art and his family, Louis on sports, Liam and Harry work as songwriters and Niall has little gigs in pubs and small venues. But what once was will never be forgotten. The way the photographers yelled at him, the way the civil visitors looked at him, the way he walked and talked and looked in his suit once again reminded you that Niall is not just your scruffy sweatpants boy, even if boy is truly a far fetched term for a thirty year old man, but also a former international popstar, multimillionaire, mogul. 

After four hours, you left. In first place because the drinks and your dress and your disability to cover up the way you feel had had quite an effect on your husband. He couldn't keep his big hands off you, tried to snog you in the corner of the gallery like a clumsy, drunk teenager and at some point, you were tempted to ask him to go to the toilets with you, but something, maybe the reporters, maybe the fact that you sort of liked torturing yourself by prolonging the relief you were in desperate need as much as you could, held you back. So you just sticked to teasing him. Made it harder for him. In the literal sense. Leaving the function, he was so frustrated all he said was: "Get in the car, we'll sort this out later." He didn't even look at you. 

You love it when he gets a little angry in terms of sex. And the fact he hasn't said a single word up until now is a proof of how serious he is this time. The radio's off, too, which is more than just unusual. He doesn't shake your hand off, though. After all, what he longs for is you. And you can't keep your eyes off him. His beautiful profile in the dark, his low breath louder than the engines, he way he licks his bottom lip and gnashes his teeth, everything about him never ceases to fascinate you. You love him. And you want him so bad. You thought you could wait, but not anymore.

"Niall...", you quietly say, running your thumb over the prominent vein on the back of his hand.   
"What?", he growls. "I'm not in the mood t' talk now, babe."  
"But Niall." You pout. He likes it when you're whining and pleading. But he doesn't even turn his head to look at you now. You reach out to stroke the stubble on his cheek.   
"Babe, c'mon.", he says. "Be patient. You've been a fuckin' tease all night, you can last a liddle longer. Twenty minutes and we're dere. I just wanna get home, get off 'nd go to sleep."  
"I want you now.", you respond, letting your hand wander from his neck to his shoulder, over his arm to his lower stomach, until you palm him through the dark blue pants of his suit. "You want me, too.", you notice, feeling the hard bulge beneath.  
"Of course I do.", he mutters. "Been a fuckin' tease, like I said. Think I can keep calm den?"  
"Then don't try to keep calm now.", you beg. "Road head's not gonna do."  
"Well, it would, fer me.", he chuckles. Finally. The corners of his mouth curl up and he turns his head from the asphalt to grin at you. "But I assume ye wanna get fucked." His eyes are sparkling in anticipation. 

"Yes.", you say, placing your other hand between your thighs, pulling on the fabric of your short black dress until your legs are fully uncovered and a bit of your cream coloured, tiny lace thong shows through your pair of sheer, see through tights between them. You slide your hand further down, drag your index finger down your slit, letting the fabric soak up your warm wetness. Niall's watching, his pink lips parted, his grip on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned pale white. 

"Don't.", he hisses through his teeth. "Not now."

"Yes.", you respond. "Now." You're fully aware that it's lightheaded and unmindful to start playing with him when she should concentrate on driving safely, but your lust is louder than your conscience, it's the quiet, smacking sound of your dripping folds breaks the silence in the car as you start rubbing your clit through your tights and panties with two fingers. 

"Fuck, (Y/N), stop.", Niall growls. "Unless ya want me t' fuckin' hit the breaks, pull ya out of the car 'nd take ya right on the spot. Which is not goin' t' be that much fun fer ya, just sayin'." He looks away again, swallowing hard, his adam's apple bobbing in his stubbly throat. You bite your lip. You're slowly but surely getting him to where you want him. And just now, you realise where you want him exactly.

It was a silly idea first. The confession of your, by far, most disturbing, and probably most debatable fantasy. A shy "Me too. I'm into that, too." and a feeling of ease knowing he shared it, as well as a "Let's do it some day" that kept you excited up until now. It's the perfect moment, the perfect location. You're both venturous and greedy enough to give in to your urge to fulfill this fantasy tonight. 

Just a game. A roleplay. Acting as if.

"Niall...", you begin. "You think what I'm thinking?"  
He turns his head to look you straight into the eyes. "What?"  
"There's just woods around and... You want it. And I want it so bad.", you go on, more moaning than talking. 

And then, he understands. His face lights up, he smirks and nods. "I see. Yeh. Fuck yes, babe. I think the same."

"Good.", you mutter. Your hand's still placed on his warm crotch.   
"Ye sure?", he asks. "Ye sure you wanna do tis? Absolutely sure?"

"Absolutely.", you assure him. "I want it."  
"Safeword?"  
"Iced coffee."  
"Good girl."  
"Always a good girl for you, Niall."  
"A hundred percent sure?"  
"Two-hundred."

With these words of yours, he turns the steering wheel around, making you fall over to the side in your seat. With a hard jerk, he stops it at the border of the forest among the road. The lights go out and for a moment, you're just sitting in the dark, recovering from the shock.Your entire body is prickling in anticipation. 

He looks at you, so determined, with big, almost scared eyes, breathing heavily. He's so aroused.

Beneath his expensive perfume and the scent of smoke the thick air in the gallery fogged his clothes in, you can smell his swea, the stench of adrenaline and testosterone, an intoxicating mixture that only adds to the ache between your sweaty thighs. 

You unbuckle your seatbelt and he does the same, gets out of the car, slams his door, walks over to yours, rips it open and grabs a fistful of your hair to pull you out of the Range Rover so quickly you can't help but cry out. He assumes you're already acting your role in this sick little game and he chuckles, making you stand up with your back against his chest so he can shove three of his thick fingers down your throat to mute you immediately. 

"There's no fuckin' use in screaming, ya hear me?", he snarls, rubbing his hot cheek against yours.

You can feel his spit running down your neck, he bites your earlobe, so much harder than usual. And you love it. You close your eyes and focus on pretending to be scared, when all you really are is aroused and excited, while he wraps his free hand around your throat and chokes you a little as he proceeds to explain what he's going to do to you. 

"We're goin t' go into the forest. Yer goin' t' keep yer whorish mouth shut. Any attempt t' make me let go 'f ya, any attempt to flee, will only make me go harder on ya. So don't even fuckin' try. You don't stand a fuckin' chance, bitch, ya hear me?"  
"Mhm.", you whimper. He pushes his fingers down on your tongue to make you gag.   
"Yer goin' t' do everythin' I tell ya. If yer bein' a good girl, I'll take ya back to the car with me afterwards. I'll take ya home and we'll carry on like nothing happened. If you try t' fight me or refuse to do anythin', let alone deny me only one of yer fuckholes, I'll leave ya in the forest and I don't give a fuck what's goin t' happen t'ya then. I don't care. I don't care if anyone else finds and fucks ya, I don't care if you don't find yer way back out. I don't give a fuck. Understood?"  
"Mhm.", you repeat. 

He's fucking convincing. He's doing so well. It turns you on like crazy. Cherub faced, warm hearted angel, everybody's darling Niall Horan roleplaying a violent criminal that's about to abuse you in the pitch black core of the English woods. You start to adapt to the play. Knowing he's actually your husband is irrelevant now. You whimper yet again and he laughs, tightening the grip around your throat to give you one last instruction. And for this, he's not acting: "Babe, listen, if anythin' hurts or I'm goin' too far, tell me, yeh? You know the safeword. I got ya. We're playin', yeh?"  
"Yes.", you respond as he pulls his fingers back, making you cough and drool on your collar.

"Good.", he then growls, pushes you away only to yank your arm behind your back and shove you towards the trees, into the dark of the forest. 

It's cold and damp and the pointy branches of the bushes you're being shoved through scratch your limbs and rip holes into your tights. You're panting, unsure if you're just acting well, out of breath or actually a little scared. It's a surprise to see how strong your husband really is. He doesn't strike one as the type to go so rough, but he's always liked it a little harder. You know that this night's going to be the climax of everything you've ever done with him. Everything you've ever let him do with you.

The silver moonlight shining through the treetops is the only source of light in the woods. You stumble over your own feet, Niall quickly pulls you back up. He grabs a fistful of your hair again.

"Fuckin' watch yer feet, stupid slut.", he snarls. You've reached a glade by now and without a warning, he pushes you down on your knees. You drop into the damp leaves and moss and look up at him. His hair's a mess already, the insane glint in his big eyes sends chills down your spine. You've always like the crazy side to him. "What? Scared?", he asks and pouts. "Is the poor liddle fuckhole scared?" Where'd he learn to talk like that? You're tempted to grin, but you press your lips together and nod, acting as if. "Please don't hurt me.", you whimper. "I'm begging you."

"Well I'm gonna have t' disappoint ya.", Niall laughs as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, placing his other hand on the back of your head like he always does, but this time tangling his fingers in your hair, wrapping the strands around them like reins on a pet. "Open wide."

Before you can, he grabs your jaw and makes you. "Open. Wide.", he repeats, pulling his tight black boxers down. You don't have much time to admire the sight of his hard cock as it springs free over the waistband because he roughly pushes your face against his crotch, forcing you to take his full length in. He's not that big, but thick, each vein that leads from the base to the pink tip swollen. You gag and tear up, breathing in the strong, sweaty, boyish smell of his pubes as you unavoidably nuzzle your nose in them. He thrusts into your mouth, completely controlling you. You don't have a chance to move your head or use your hands. The moment you place them on his meaty, hairy thighs, he shakes them off, hissing: "Keep yer greedy fuckin' hands t' yerself, whore. I fuck yer mouth, not the odder way 'round."

He's using you. Heedlessly ramming his cock into your mouth, he makes you gag with every thrust. Tears are streaming down your cheeks and a part of you wishes he'd stop, but at the same time, being so helplessly delivered to his unexpected strength and aggression turns you on like crazy.   
"No fuckin' teeth!", he growls. You can't help it, you can hardly control your breathing. He tastes horrible tonight and you hope he stops using your mouth soon because you want to feel him, want him to use you entirely. His rough hand on the back of your head is hurting you and you whimper in actual pain. He notices your struggle and stops, pulling his cock back, leaving you drooling and gasping for air. Your spit's dripping down from the tip of his hard on and he waits, waits for you to come back to your senses and calm down a little, before he grabs your hair again and pulls you back on your feet. Your wound knees are weak, your legs are shaking. 

"Tryin' t' give me a hard time, huh?", he snarls. "Think if yer actin' like you have no clue how to take a cock, I'll let ya go, huh? Well I'll teach ya how to take it."

He squeezes your ass, then slaps it. You have to grin. Spanking has always been a kink of yours and he knows that very well. "Like tat?", he asks. "Like it when I hit ya?"   
"No.", you cry out, obviously lying. "No, please don't hit me again. Please don't hurt me."  
"Shut up.", he growls, slapping your face now. He grabs your jaw and stares at you, his insane, dead psycho eyes making you shiver. "Shut. Your. Fuckin'. Mouth."  
"But-", you protest. He rolls his eyes and chuckles: "What? What 'but', huh?" He's mocking you now, in a girly voice. "Please don't hurt me! Please let me go! 's tat what ya want t' tell me? Ye think anythin' ye could say could keep me from doin' what I want t do? Tell me. Tell me one good reason not to fuckin' use you, bitch. Right here. Where nobody can hear ya. In tat skimpy liddle dress of yours. One good reason, whore. And maybe I'll think about it."

He's doing so well. You're shocked by how authentic he is. Of course there's nothing you can or want to say to stop him. Because you don't want him to stop. But you know it's part of the game to act as if you do. So you stutter: "Y-you can use my mouth again if you like. But don't... Don't..."  
"What?", he shouts, his face only a few inches away from yours. His hot breath's hovering over your lips and you can feel his hard on against your lower stomach. He leans closer, starts to kiss your neck. Sucking on your sweet spot, leaving a hickey for sure, he whispers: "Don't use my cunt? Please don't abuse my tight little cunt? That what ya want t' say? Sorry, babe. I will. And if yer not bein' good I might as well use yer ass, too. Would you like tat? I don't think so. It hurts, ye know. Really bad."   
"Don't.", you beg. "Not my-..."

"There's no yours anymore, silly. All of this is mine." He gives your boobs a squeeze and shoves his big hand between your thighs. "This mine. And this too. All of yer fuckin' holes. Mine. You're mine."

He makes you turn around and pulls your dress up to your waist, staring at your ass in the sheer tights for a second before he tears the fabric with his nails, ripping a big hole in it, far enough to reach underneath and pull your thongs down. He slaps your ass again,really hard, then pushes you down on your knees again. "On your fours.", he mutters, barely audible.  
"What?", you ask him.   
"God, am I so hard to understand? Are ye fuckin' daft? Or are ye just stupid? On.Your. Fours."

You do what you're told, crouching in the moss like his pet, your legs spread, the heat between your thighs exposed to him. You wait for him, wait for him to kneel down, grab and take you, but he's hestitating. You don't dare to turn your head around. You just stare straight into the pitch black darkness of the woods around you. Your heart's racing. You're dripping.You can almost feel your wetness run down your thigh. You're aching for him to finally make a move, to finally fuck you. Why is he teasing you like that? Is he hestitating, wondering if he went too far? You don't want him to worry. And then, you have an idea. You know exactly how to provoke him.

You start to crawl forward, away from him and then, you jump back on your feet and start running.  
"Fuck!", you hear him cussing behind you, but of course you stumble, fall back on your fours, sharp branches leaving cuts on your arms and elbows. The next thing you feel is his full weight pushing you down. "Nice try.", he growls. "Whore." He spits on your neck and pushes your face into the leaves. Digging his fingers into your little love handles, he positions himself behind you and then, without a further warning, he rocks his hips against you, entering you so abruptly the slight pain of your entrance stretching is making you whimper in actual pain.

"Mh, fuck", he groans. "So. So. Tight."   
"You're hurting me.", you whine.   
"Good.", he chuckles. He lowers his upper body, full weight on top of you now. Every thrust is deeper, pushing you into the cold leaves. Niall kisses your cheek, whispering: "How come yer so wet though, huh? Not as scared as you seemed, liddle one? Like bein' abused?"  
You just moan in response. Even though he doesn't give a fuck about rubbing your clit or your pleasure in first place now, the feeling of his cock grinding on your g spot with every hard thrust is enough for you in that adrenaline rush like state of absolute arousal.   
"Slut.", he growls again. "Fuckin' slut. Love how I fuck into ya, huh? Yer cunt's all wet and warm fer me. Good lidde fuckhole."

You keep quiet and just enjoy how hard he goes. You close your eyes and listen to him, heavily breathing, groaning, cussing. It doesn't take long until he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting you while he comes undone. He tenses and you can feel him throbbing inside of you, his thrusts get sloppier. He doesn't warn you, why would he? It's part of the play. He cums with a last hard thrust, shooting his load into you but pulling back so quick that some of it lands on the inside of your thighs and runs out of your sore slit, onto the leaves benath you. He's panting, still muttering "fuck" under his breath and you know that he came hard, really good and hard. Obviously, he enjoy this game just as much as you. You're so happy he finally tried it with you. Even if you didn't cum, it was hot, beyond exciting, and definitely an unforgettable experience. But it seems as if Niall isn't done yet. As he gets up, he stares at your helpless, used body in the moss before he tells you to turn around and helps you get up.   
"You okay?", he whispers, not acting anymore.   
"Yeah.", you say. "Thank you."  
"Don't thank me yet.", he murmurs. He pulls his pants back up. His face is flushed, sweat's shimmering on his forehead. He smiles at you and kisses your nose. "Come, babe." 

He grabs your hand and leads you back to the street where your car's still parked. You're still shaking, really weak, and in fact, you're sore and hurting. It's hard to walk in the ripped tights and the cum stained fabric's sticking to your skin. Niall walks to the passenger side, unlocks the car and opens the door for you. "Sit.", he says. You get in and turn around, but he stops you from putting your legs in and spreads them instead, looking at you with a cheeky grin. 

"Think I'm gonna leave it at tat?", he asks. He reaches behind you and turns off the lights of the car. You're sitting sideways on the passenger seat, legs spread, staring at your husband in the open door in front of you. You know what's next. Without another word, he gets on his knees and pulls down your panties again, down to your ankles.  
"Yer okay?", he asks again. "Did I hurt you? Go to far?"  
"No, it was amazing.", you respond. "I loved it, babe. I loved it. You're so good at acting."  
"Did I scare ya?", he chuckles.  
"Yes.", you confess. "But mostly, you turned me on."  
"I can tell, baby, I can tell.", he whispers as he dips his fingers into your wetness. Then, he leads them to his mouth, blue eyes locked with yours, and sucks your juice off. "Can I taste meself?", he chuckles. "I think so."

"Fuck, Niall, please.", you whimper, leaning back a little to bring your aching center closer to his face. If anyone drives by, they'll just see a pair of legs hanging out an open car door and man in a suit kneeling in front of them. "Please, baby.", you beg. "Please. No more teasing."  
"Yeh, I know. Been rough enough wit ya tonight.", he sighs before he shoves his fingers back in, gently past your entrance. Hooking them up to hit your g spot, he begins to carefully pump them into you. "Good? Feels good?", he asks you.  
"Yes. So, so good, baby. So good."

He smiles and then, he leans closer, spreads your sensitive folds with his other hand and pushes his flat tongue against your clit. You cry out his name and he laughs before he drags the tip of his tongue from your entrance back up to your swollen clit, once, twice, three times, licking like a kitten before he purses his lips and smacks, then sucks on it. At the same time, he's working his thick fingers inside of you. He knows exactly what to do. He knows you so well.  
"Niall, it feels so fuckin'- So fucking good, babe,-" You can't even properly talk anymore.  
"Let go angel, cum.", he growls against your heat. "I want ya t' cum fer me, baby. Cum. Be a good liddle girl and cum for me. You did so well. Been so good for me. Now cum."

And you do what you're told. You bite your lip not to cry out too loud as you clench around his fingers and feel your entire body getting weak under the intensity of your orgasm. It feels so good, so good. And it lasts so long. You've been waiting too long anyway. And you love your reward. And you love Niall. You place your hands on his cheeks as you come down an look into his face, unable to keep yourself from smiling. His eyes are wide and glassy and he's smiling back at you.  
"Was it good?", he asks. "Came good, liddle one?"  
"Fuck, yes, babe. Thank you so much.", you pant. He gets back up and kisses you,making you taste yourself. He strokes your thigh and mutters: "I love you so fuckin' much."  
"I love you, too.", you respond, still cupping his face in your shaky hands. "So much, so, so much."  
"And I didn't hurt ya? Everythin's okay wit ya?"  
"Yes, baby, everything's okay. We can do it again some time."  
"Want me t' make ya cum again?", he asks, kissing the tip of your nose. "Can make ya cum all night long if ye like."  
"No, babe, it's alright. Let's go back home. I'm tired now and way too sensitive.", you tell him. He's so caring, so dedicated. "Come back into the car, let's go home, baby. We can continue tomorrow."

"Alright. Good.", he says, helping you to pull up your panties and tights. You turn around and lean against the seat, closing your eyes. You know you'll never forget that. Niall closes your door and gets into the car on the other side. 

"Why are ye smilin like tat, babe?", he asks you, starting the engines.   
"I'm just thinkin of what you've done to me.", you giggle.   
"Oh babe, c'mon.", he responds and grins at you. "You wanted it."  
"I'm not talking about that little role play. I'm talking about what you've done to my heart, Niall. I fucking love you."  
"Ye bedder do, (Y/N), I'm yer fuckin' husband.", he laughs. "I love you, too. So much."

Before you reach your house, you've fallen asleep on the passenger seat. Niall carries you in, carefully undresses and puts you to bed. And ten minutes laters, he's fallen asleep with his arms wrapped around you and his head resting on your shoulder.


End file.
